Finding Life
by Optimistically Pessimistic
Summary: Jack's struggle after season 4
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: If you think I own 24, your probably even newer here than I am. :)

Hey Everyone! Sorry if it's kinda slow I'm gonna try and pick it up a bit in later chapters. I'm also gonna play the sympathy vote here, I'm a newbie in bad need of feedback, so please, please, please, please, R&R!

Jack woke up suddenly, immediately awake, and glanced around the small room. It was a habit he had worked on for months when he joined the military. Being able to be fully alert in a second or two was neverendingly useful in the military.

The military. Jacks past crept into his thoughts quickly. His military training was of no use to him now. With the military, came the other aspects of his past life, his job, his family. G-d, they flooded his thoughts, and the pain of what he had lost stuck in him like a knife. Quickly he blocked out his mind and began getting ready for the day. He packed his few needed belongings into his bag, as he had done everyday for the past three months. Moving quickly around the room, he showered and dressed, then left the small motel room that was his home. At least, it was today. Jack had been constantly moving for the past eight months, never staying anywhere more than five days to a week. He walked out into the hot Mexican sun, and looked down the street.

This town was small, but not tiny. It had many businesses and a large surrounding farming area. In fact, it was the largest town for 43 miles. It suited Jack well, not big enough to cause problems, but large enough for him to find a job easily. He had walked into the town two days ago, and had found a job the day before. He was a factory worker, at a steel goods complex. It was hard work, but had okay pay, so Jack didn't mind.

He entered the factory and stored his bag in the locker he'd been assigned. No one looked up, and no one said hi. Around here it was normal for workers to only stay a week or two, so the 'regulars' didn't even bother anymore. He walked down to the main shipping and receiving building and started working.

Jack had found out quickly that it was much easier to get through the day when you kept busy and worked continuously. By lunch Jack had finished all his work and helped another man finish his, the lunch bell sounded and everyone dropped what they were doing. Jack didn't particularly want to eat with the rest of the workers, he didn't need company, and after eight months he was quite used to eating alone. He grabbed his bag, walked outside, and started towards the towns centre. As Jack walked he thought about the life he'd grown to have. Constantly moving, he strived for as little contact with everyone else as possible. He didn't mind, he could live like this, but still it would be nice to settle down somewhere. Maybe not permanently, but long enough to make some extra cash, and to get some rest, a couple months couldn't hurt. This town was as good a place as any. It was out of the way, and didn't really seem to have a major drug-and-gang centre like so many other towns did. On the other side of the street, Jack spotted a small cafe advertising a $2.99 special. Feeling hungry he decided to try it out, he had another 30 min. of lunch break anyway.

He walked in the front door, doing his systematic check of everyone inside. There was a few booths and a row of stools at the large counter that went almost the entire length of the hallway. You could see into the kitchen from the stools, and a bathroom door was on the left side of the room. There was a waitress behind the counter, and he could hear a cook muttering in Spanish in the kitchen. Besides them he was the only one there. He took a seat at the furthest stool, in the corner. The waitress walked up and smiled.

"What can I get you" she asked in Spanish. Jack looked at her name tag and saw her name was Sara.

"I'll have the special" he replied in Spanish. She laughed suddenly and began speaking in English. Jack couldn't help but notice she had a distinctly American accent.

"I'm sure you are, you don't speak Spanish, do you?" she laughed again. Jack looked confused and shook his head.

"I'm still learning, why?"

"You just said you _were _special. I'm assuming you _want_ the special." He nodded and turned slightly red.

"Sorry, he replied, I'm still working on a few things." He gave her a small smile as she came back with his coffee.

"So, where are you from?" she asked. Jack looked down at his coffee, he hadn't really wanted to talk, much less have to lie.

"All around," he knew it sounded vague, but what was he going to tell her, the truth? The cook started yelling suddenly, and she turned around to see what was going on. Jack sighed in relief, discussions about his past were not something he wanted to discuss over lunch. He busied himself with fixing his coffee, while trying hard not to appear as if he was eavesdropping. It wasn't hard however, as the cook was probably yelling loud enough for people on the street to hear. Even with his rudimentary understanding of Spanish he was getting the jist of the conversation. The cook was yelling at the phone and was screaming something about payments that had to be made or something about transferring money. The waitress turned back around and shrugged.

"Just his ex-wife" Jack shot her a questioning look.

"Child care payments," she said by way of explanation, "He already has two, and another one on the way." Jack nodded and returned to his coffee. By now the cook had hung up the phone and returned to his stove, once again muttering under his breath.

"So how long you gonna to be in town," the waitress asked, returning to their conversation.

"Don't really know," Jack said, looking up. As Jack looked up, the cook turned towards the waitress and began yelling at her. She turned around and said a few sentences in Spanish. This only seemed to agitate him, and he began to gesture wildly around the restaurant. This wouldn't have been a huge problem had the cook not been carrying a rather large knife. Jack tensed, and watched the cook closely. The waitress backed away, and Jack could hear her apologizing in rapid Spanish. The cook gestured once more, then went back to work. He moved around several large pots around, banging them together loudly. The waitress turned around slowly, looking paler then before.

"More coffee", she asked. Her voice was much quieter now, and Jack nodded his thanks. Just as she was picking up the pot, the cook slammed two pots together loudly. This startled the waitress and she dropped the pot, watching helplessly as it shattered into hundreds of pieces on the floor. The cook began yelling louder than before. Insult upon insult, that the pot would come out of her pay, and he should fire her then. He came out from the kitchen, and Jack leapt up.

"Senor, Senor", he started, "It wasn't her fault, I hit her hand, it was an accident, I'll pay for the pot. Senor?" The cook looked over at him, then back at the waitress, then turned to Jack and nodded. Jack nodded with him, then sat down. The cook returned to the kitchen. The waitress looked over at him as soon as the cook had gone.

"Thank you, I'm so sorry-,"she started. Jack shook his head in dismissal.

"Don't worry about it, the cook was just worked up." The waitress looked behind her, and watched as the cook walked out of view. She turned around and smiled slightly.

"Well anyway, thank you. My name's Sara, by the way." She held out her hand.

"Jack" he replied. He reached across the counter and shook her hand.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hey Everybody! Thought I'd say Hi. See, now that I've said 'Hi', you have to say 'Hi' back. I was born and raised in a small town where everybody says 'Hi', so that's almost compulsory. Now I wouldn't force you to do this, I would just be really, really, really, really disappointed if you didn't. So, you can say 'Hi' back by pressing the little ?purplish? button at the bottom of the page. Hey, and (pure coincidence) while you're there, you could leave a review! _

_Pretty Please! Thank you to Stacy James for her review, it was much appreiciated!_

Jack had now been in the small town for a full week, and was starting to consider looking for an apartment. His job was going well, and he badly needed the money. He continued trying to work himself into the ground, not only from habit, but the more tired he was the less energy he had to think about the past. And everything that came with it.

Jack entered the small coffee shop and the waitress looked up from where she was. He had been coming to the small cafe every day now for a week. She was beginning to wonder if he was ever going to leave town or not. She wondered what he was looking for, and how long he'd been searching. Although Mexico was a warm country it was almost winter, and the nights were cold. She knew for a fact that most travelers like him just slept on the road if they weren't close to a town, and on nights like these he would freeze.

She greeted him with a cheery 'hello', and he replied with his usual small grin and brief nod. Although he didn't talk much, she enjoyed his company, and he was a good listener. He ordered the same thing everyday and Sara had taken it upon herself to order as soon as she saw him coming down the street. She was grateful for his company. Although she was part Spanish, the other townspeople knew her history, and didn't make much of an effort to get to know her.

He sat down at the same stool in the corner, and nodded his thanks as the waitress brought him coffee. She decided to start the conversation by getting straight to the point, and brought the stool that she had behind the bar over to sit with him.

"Jack, it's none of my business, but are you staying for the winter?"

He looked up, and was mildly taken aback. She hadn't asked him any questions about himself since the first day they had met, he had assumed she'd understood he didn't want to talk about himself. Still, he was also shocked at how accurate her thoughts were to his own. He began to realize that he hadn't responded out loud yet, and was now simply staring at her.

"Haven't given it much thought," he replied, as he quickly ducked his head. It was partially true, he'd only been thinking about it for less then a day, and that didn't qualify as much, did it?

"Jack, it gets cold at night, colder than you think, and-"

"Thanks, but I can take care of myself." His response sounded harsh even to him, and he mentally winced as he said it. But he was caught off-guard, and had responded as such.

She looked disappointed, but stood her ground.

"Jack, it's going to be a long way to the next town, and I doubt you could make it. Now you seem to be at least _mildly_ intelligent, so would you listen to me." Her outburst stopped him dead in his tracks and he just looked at her.

"I've seen just about everybody and their uncle pass through here, so I know what I'm talking about. I'm not wrong all that often either. It's going to get real cold, real fast these next couple days, and if you leave now it's going to hit while you're in the middle of nowhere." She had stood up and put her hands on her hips, defiance in her voice.

"I'll be fine, I can move fast an-"

"Jack, did you here a word I just said? The fastest man in the world couldn't make it. The only thing between here and anywhere else is desert. Trust me, that'll kill you as fast, if not faster, than most things."

As soon as she said it, she realized something was wrong. She had seen him visibly flinch when she'd said '_If not faster_'. Something gave her the impression that he knew just how powerful and fast death could be, and gave it more than a healthy amount of respect.

She sat back down in her seat, and leaned forward. Suddenly realizing that he wasn't _looking_ for anything at all, but running from something.

"Look, Jack, whatever, it is that you're running from. Winter'll stop it too." She smiled gently, trying to lighten the mood.

Then Jack looked up.

As he did, she saw more about the man named Jack then she could ever hope to get him to say. She could see the pain he held as she looked into his eyes. There was so much pain, and so much of it was new and fresh, it almost overwhelmed her. But so much of it was old too. She had never been able to read him before, and this sudden version of an almost outpouring of emotion, shocked her. There had always been a deadness to his eyes, that contrasted to the vibrant life that had also glinted in them, and she had often found herself what they meant.

However, beyond the pain, she could see so much contrast in his mind. As much as she could see the pain, she could see the strength. She could see the guilt, and the shame that ran through him. But, there was one more thing she could see, and she couldn't immediately place it. In fact, she could more sense it than anything else. Wild. For the first time she sensed how truly dangerous the man could become. She could feel his anger, almost pure fury, rage beneath the surface. She could also sense the immense effort it took to keep it under control. She had seen many men angry, many violent, but this was different. This man was...different. He was raw electricity, he was the natural rage of nature, he was pure.

Then there was nothing. He had closed, and become an emotionless, cold mask. He sat as still as a rock, on his stool, his coffee forgotten. She was still reeling at the silence, and looked at him in a new light.

"I don't know what happened to you, and I don't know if I really want to know, but stay, please." He remained motionless, as if the simple act of letting his emotions break through the surface had not only shocked, but drained him. She grabbed a napkin and wrote two numbers on it.

"The bottom number is my landlord, he might have an extra apartment. The top number is mine, Jack, you call me if you need something, okay. Jack?" He nodded slowly and took the outstretched napkin. He looked up and nodded again, then turned and walked quickly out the door.

_Hope you liked it. More soon. And look, there's the little purplish button I promised would be there. Thanks for reading:)_


	3. Stuck in the Past

A/N : Sorry I'm taking so long, but I kinda lost my 24 muse. However, now that Season 5 is close to premiering (at least it is here), and I have addicted my friend to the series, so we talk about it all the time, I have a new chapter. Also, sorry for what has to be the longest flashback on the face of the earth. Btw, I always love reviews, good, bad, or ugly.

Also, upping the story rating for mild violence and some language.

And... Happy New Year:-)

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Jack walked aimlessly through the town, still in a mental shock. His mind repeated the same thoughts over and over, like some sort of broken tape recorder. He couldn't run forever, and winter couldn't stop this. As much as he ran from the Chinese now, he realized he had been running for a much longer time. He was running from Nightfall, and Teri's death, and all those he had killed. They haunted him. They would haunt him for forever. He stumbled through the town, falling into a back alley. Except he wasn't in Mexico anymore, he wasn't in this time or even this space. He was lost in a world of the past, in a world of pain, and a world of blood, and he had no idea how to get away.

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_He was running with his team through a small ghost town. He motioned for the team to pause, and they collectively fell to the ground melting in with the growing shadows. Jack looked around cautiously, and spotted a single armed guard by the entrance to a grey building. The building was their objective, was their target, and one guard would not stop them. He motioned for the team to split up and surround, with his group coming in from the back. The guard wouldn't see them, and even if he did, he wouldn't have a chance against them. As Jack and two other members of his team made their way around the building, the radio in his ear began to crackle. The small voice told them the guard had moved and was now heading their way. It was unforeseen and Jack was forced to act quickly. Motioning his two teammates behind the corner of a building Jack ran up the back of the alley, and hid behind a dumpster. The guard made his way slowly down the alley, looking for a lighter in his pocket. As the guard passed, Jack rushed out and tackled him, with one hand over his mouth. The guard reacted instantly, reaching for the knife in his belt, and managed to grab it as he spun Jack off of him. Jack lept up, the man had turned to run and Jack took him to the ground once more. This time there was no mistake. Jack reached to the side of the mans jaw, covering the emerging scream, and twisted violently. The man was dead before his head hit the ground, the neck virtually snapped in two. _

_Jack looked down, feeling nothing, and motioned his men forward. It took them mere seconds to place the charges, and they exited the alley quickly. As they returned to their group, the entire team paused collectively as Jack set the timer for the explosive charges. They had only minutes to retreat before the ensuing explosion, and moved quickly. They managed to get to the edge of the town, as Jack noticed a slight flutter in the bushes. He tryed to tell himself he was being paranoid, but something gnawed at him. There had only been one guard, and almost no activity in the town. This was much less than the minimum projection figures of resistance, and he began to worry. It was seconds later that everything flew from his mind. The town went from empty to teeming as men appeared from midair. They were surrounding them, yelling things in a language he couldn't understand, and what Jack noticed the most, were waving large, highly lethal weaponry. Guns of every size and form, and Jack's mind went into overdrive as he ran scenario's of escape through his mind. Finding none he looked at his team. His eyes told them all they needed to know. They had come on this mission prepared to die, and they would do so. But not willingly. They held their own weapons at the ready, waiting. Then the man who appeared to be their leader stepped forward, and the firing began. Both sides attacked, and men fell in every direction. Jack felt a bullet pass through his side and fell to the ground, he looked up and saw his team, his fellow soldiers, his friends, fall. Then an explosion rocked the ground, Jack rolled on the ground, and ended up on top of a man. It took Jack a second, but then he recognized him. It was the youngest member of his team, the man had been married less than a year. Jack struggled to right himself and looked around him. There was chaos everywhere, as the enemy ran for the building, confused. Jack stared down at his front. He was covered in blood, his hands were red only, no flesh could be seen, and his entire uniform front was covered. He snapped out of it, and looked for an opening to escape. Only a few men had been left to guard the scene and search for wounded, and Jack slipped quietly into nearby bushes. He ran. He ran until he could run no more, rested briefly, then ran again. The shock had all but worn off, and Jack was feeling the full effects of the wound in his side now. He could barely stand, let alone run, as he neared the rendezvous point. Looking into the distance, he spotted the small building, that he was searching for. He also saw the vehicle out front, and a plume of smoke rising from the building. It was being lit on fire, destroyed before it could be found, and Jack moved faster, spurred on by a sense of panic. They had no idea he was still alive, and would leave without him. He broke through the tree line as the last man exited the building. Jack waved and shouted, continuing to run until the man spotted him. Three soldiers leapt out of the large truck, ready to face the intruder, but as he neared they recognized him and lowered their weapons. They ran toward him, to help him, but as they neared, Jack fell. So near, yet so far, Jack couldn't continue. The panic had subsided, and for the first time he felt the full extent of his injuries. Jack looked down at his hands, intently aware that most of the blood he was covered in was not his own. As he passed out, he wondered whether he wished to be dead, or alive._

_He woke up in a military hospital four days later, barely coherent. The doctor had explained to him that he was the only one to make it out, and that he would be staying awhile, his injuries were more serious than they had first appeared. Besides being shot, Jack had broken his leg in two different places and cracked a couple of ribs. One of the ribs had almost pierced his lung and they were worried about him moving and causing it further damage. However the more dangerous damage was mental. No one was sure he could recover from this, he had not only been injured but had lost his team. He was kept constantly sedated, but even through the drugs, he stayed panicked and was constantly shaking and twitching..._

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Sara had closed the cafe, and wrapped herself tighter into her coat. The coat was old though, and worn down, and provided little protection against the cold. She had closed a little later tonight then normal, since another one of her bosses tantrums had delayed her. She held her knife tight in her hand as she walked, since it was later, and darker, she had no idea what kind of people were out, and didn't want to be surprised. She walked quickly, scanning the shadows for movement. Halfway home she paused, she had seen a shadow move. Her heart began to beat faster, as she peered into the ally way. If it was a cat, she would relax, if not... well, she had been pretty good at track, back in the day. She saw the shadow flinch again and she panicked. Then she saw the leg. The leg was lying across the pavement, twitching slowly. Her mothering side took over, as she abandoned all precautions and hurried into the ally way. She bent down beside the figure, partially obscured by cloth and shadows. 'Probably some sort of drug overdose,' she thought to herself. They were common, and she had seen more than her share. She gasped in shock, as she pulled back the cloth and stared at Jack. She checked his arms for track marks, but he hadn't seemed like the type to shoot up. She felt him twitch and flinch against her arms as she held him down, and watched as an expression of panic crossed his face. She was worried and tried to wake him up. 'Maybe he's epileptic, or something...,' her mind searched for a viable alternative, anything that wasn't drugs. She patted him lightly on the cheek while calling his name and he stirred slightly. She called louder, and he snapped out of it, almost like, waking up.

He stared up at her blankly, then sat up abruptly, breaking himself free of her grasp. Rubbing his eyes and head, he started apologizing.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you or anything, just fell. Are you okay? I mean, it's really late, and it gets kinda dangerous at night, you should be home-" She cut him off before he could continue babbling.

"Stop! Don't even bother trying to tell me you fell. Falling doesn't make people do...well...that! Now, you could be really injured. We need to get you to a hospistal."

"NO, no! I'll be fine, really. Just happens every now and then." She was ignoring him though, while checking his head.

"Uh oh, you've got a pretty good gash here, are you sure you don't want to go to a hos-" She stopped as Jack silently brought an arm up. His manner had changed and he was staring at something behind her. She turned slowly and jumped. Three young men dressed in baggy clothes were blocking the entrance to the ally. And one of them, had a pipe.

Jack felt his demeanor change as his agent-self moved into place. It surrounded him like a shield, and he savoured the feeling. He focused on his opponents, and felt all other concerns drift away. All that mattered was getting Sara to safety. The simplicity of it calmed him. This was his objective. To have one goal, one mission, one thought, it filled his being, and he had missed this feeling. He stood quickly, unconsciencely putting himself between the thugs and Sara.

"We have nothing of value, I swear." He didn't think it would work but hey, it was worth a shot.

One of them stepped forward, eyeing Sara lewdly.

"Maybe you don't, but she does. Come on man, just leave us alone, let us get what we want, we'll let you walk." Jack shook his head.

"Not a chance in hell. You go through me." His voice had once more aquired it's hard edge, and he turned further still into the soldier he was.

Mr. Talkative moved further forward with his pipe.

"Dude, are you blind or something. We'll kick your ass from here to next week. Or maybe we'll leave you conscience to watch." Jack spoke up once more, his voice still on edge.

"I'm warning you, don't try it. You can leave now and we'll forget this whole thing." Behind him he felt Sara shrink farther into the wall. The thug just laughed, then attacked.

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Jack saw the attack coming, almost in slow motion. He threw up an arm in a block that caused the pipe to angle toward the ground. Using his leverage on his now off balance opponent, he drove a knee into the guys stomach. Watching him go down, Jack grabbed the pipe, and spun to face the other two attackers. They were nearly on him, and Jack realized late that one of the had a tire iron. He pulled the pipe up on one side, blocking the tire iron, while throwing a side kick at another one's chest. It may have been three on one, but Jack had more experience at actual fighting then all of them combined. And a lot more pent up hostility. The pipe was dislodged from his grip as the tire iron hit it, but the thug lost his weapon as well, so it remained even. Jack spun and punched, then spun again. He made short work of the other two before he realized the first man had gotten up. He had just delivered a knockout blow to one of them, when the first thug hit him on the head. Jack wasn't sure what he'd used, but it stunned him. Long enough for the thug to move in front of him, and deliver a full kick to his ribs. Jack heard his chest crack, and fell. Stunned and barely conscious, he lay on the ground. Then he heard Sara whimper. It kicked his senses back into high gear, and he launched himself towards the sound. As this, he felt no pain. He was a machine, with one duty, to keep Sara safe. He would never fail his mission, ever. Tackling the enemy, he landed on top of him, and left him no advantage. Immediately he delivered a fast blow to the chin, stunning the thug, followed by a shot to the temple, knocking him out... just for good measure. He dropped his arms to his side, as blackness clouded his vision, and he rolled off the guy. Sara appeared above him, but he couldn't quite make out what she was saying. Then his world went dark.

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A/N : Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed. And I always love reviews, good, bad, or ugly.


	4. Bumps and Bruises

A/N Okay, Happy Belated (enter your holiday of choice here). An extra long chapter, because I just couldn't split it up. As always, all reviews are appreciated, and I take all comments or suggestions. If there is something you don't like, is wrong, or desperately need changed, drop me a line. I appreciate all feed back.

AgentReznick: I know, I know, I just kindof hoped everyone would bypass that little fact.begs forgiveness I just couldn't imagine calling Jack anything but, well...Jack.

Warning - the following content is mildly fluffy, at parts cheesy, and definitely cliched, but, yeah...

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Sara watched the sleeping form lying in her bed. After Jack had fought, he had nearly collapsed. She had barely managed to get him standing, and had ended up half carrying him home. The gash on his head had been widened by the hit to the head he had taken, and she had spent a good hour already, picking out the gravel and dirt. As it happened, that was no easy task to perform on an unconsciencous person. Especially one that insisted on twitching every couple minutes. The only saving grace she could find was that he had cut his hair short a few days earlier, so it wasn't interfering with the wound. She had taken a break, and grabbed a cup of coffee. She had found a first aid kit, but she was going to need to be a little more awake then she currently was, to piece his head back together.

Leaning back, she thought of the fight. He had protected her, probably saved her life, but... still. The way he had moved, he had fought like that before. She shuddered as she thought back to one moment. He had been throwing a punch and had twisted, showing her his face. She had seen his eyes, and it had unnerved her. Before she had met him, she had prided herself on reading people. As a waitress she had grown a feel for people. Kind, mean, on-the-run, guys with sick minds, she could sense them all. But Jack had stumped her. He was kind, and had helped her on the first day they had met, but actions can lie. Eyes can't. Or at least they couldn't. He had seemed nice enough...but something nagged at the back of her brain. Hours earlier, she had thought of him as pure. But now she was even more unsure: was he pure good, or pure evil.

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Jack woke with a start, jolting forward. His neck let out a flash of pain, and he rested his head back in it's original position. Then panic jumped to the forefront of Jack's mind, as his brain failed to process where he was. He forced his eyes open, and glanced around the room as best he could without moving his neck.

He was in a warm room, lying on a soft bed. The room was mismatched colour-wise, but organized. He could see a small window facing him, and noted it was still dark outside. His eyes slowly grew into focus, and came to rest on Sara. She was slumped over onto a side table beside the bed, with a coffee cup in one hand, and using her arm as a pillow. He smiled slightly, then stopped himself. He needed to leave, NOW. This was getting personal, and he couldn't let that happen, especially now. Jack heard a slight buzzing in the background of his mind, and tried to ignore it, but it continued. Moments later, he was back in the quiet numbness he had been woke from seconds earlier.

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"But why can't you just wake him up?" a voice whispered. A second voice appeared, this time closer.

"Because, now go outside and play. Quietly, this time. Ok?"

Jack twisted and inadvertently let out a low moan.

"Shhhh, now go." Feet pattered away as Jack woke up. He opened his eyes slowly, and winced at the glaring light. Closing his eyes immediately, Jack wished he wasn't awake. A head came into view, blocking the offending glare, and his eyes opened further.

"Now sit still, try not to move around, I still don't know how badly you're injured yet. Jack, can you hear me? Jack?" He nodded, while closing his eyes.

"Oh no you don't, don't go back to sleep yet, you need to help me out here." Jack opened his eyes halfway, and winced once more as she moved out of the way of the light.

"Can you, um, shut the blinds, or something. The light is really, um, bright. Thanks." His throat scratched as he spoke, and he swallowed several times.

"Look, sorry, about all this. I need to get going... I need to get to work..." He moved to get up, and Sara almost lept on him.

"Don't you even think about it. I called your work. I'm friends with the manager, remember, told him all about you and this little fight. He gave you a couple days off, so he's not expecting you until next week. And I still don't know how badly you're hurt yet, I've only had time to look at your head. And let me tell you, that by itself is hurt enough. You have a major concussion, you understand me. Your pupils are so different, they look like they belong to two people. And last time I checked, feeling the light was so bright it hurt, counts as light sensitivity. You are laying here, _at least_ until I patch up your head, SO DON"T MOVE."

Jack's inner mind responded to the order immediately, and he fell back onto the bed while mumbling something about basic training. Sara grinned triumphantly.

"Okay, NOW I'm going to help you sit up. SLOWLY! Then I can get to work on the back of your head." He nodded once in agreement, and moved to sit up. His neck flared with pain again, as the muscles stopped working, and his head fell backward. He winced, and she caught his head. Holding his neck, she used the rest of her arm to help push him forward. Once he was able to stay balanced and sitting, she checked his head.

The gash was big now, but having put pressure on it for so long, it wasn't really bleeding anymore. Just kind of... oozing. She opened up the medical kit, and spread the contents out on the remainder of the bed. Picking up a large gauze pad she moved to get up. Jack had been watching her and held up a hand.

"Don't use that."

"What? The gash is to small for a band aid, Jack. I'm gonna need to use this."

"How big is the cut?"

"Um... I don't know... maybe 4 inches."

"Okay. Did you grab my bag?" She looked around for the small brown side bag he always carried with him. She remembered seeing it last night, but couldn't remember if she had picked it up. She walked around to the other side of the bed, and spotted it, half hidden by the falling comforter. Picking it up, she handed it to him. He seemed all right as long as he didn't have to move his neck, and she suspected he had a bit of whiplash to go with the concussion. He was digging through it, and finally pulled out a small kit. He handed it to her, and closed his bag.

"Okay, look through that for a small ziplock bag." His voice had regained some strength, but he closed his eyes as he spoke, not able to completely ignore the headache for long. She found what he wanted, and handed it to him.

"Now, look for a small brown bottle, and a white tube." She found those and took them out as well. He had opened up the ziplock bag and taken out a few of the contents.

"These are called butterfly sutures. You're going to need to use them to close the cut." She just stared at him.

"I don't know how to do that." What was he a paramedic in another life?

"That's okay, it's easy. I'll talk you through it. This is hydrogen peroxide, we need to use this now. It'll prevent infection."

"Well, at least I know what that is." She took a cotton ball from her kit, and swabbed out most of the cut. She was as gentle as she could be, but he didn't move, even when she accidentally hurt him. She could hear him draw a deep breath, then exhale slowly, but he stayed as still as a statue.

"Okay, now what?"

" The tube has antiseptic, just put that on then the sutures. Okay, you need to peel off the sides of the suture. Then you have to put it across the cut, so the sides are pulled together." She did as he said, repeating the process for the other two stitches. By the time she had finished he was breathing heavily, and sweating. She moved around to look him in the eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think it would hurt that much, I-"

"No, No, it's not my head. I think my ribs got bruised a little, that's all. I just need to lay back down for a minute." He leaned back and practically fell into the bed. He wasn't sure if his ribs were just bruised, in fact, he was fairly sure there were a few broken ones, but Sara didn't need to know that. He lay on the bed quietly, trying to catch his breath, failing to notice that Sara had left. He did notice when she entered though, and tried to look more alert than he had been feeling.

"Here Jack, I brought you some ice. How bad is it?" He gave her a small, almost sheepish, grin that turned into a wince as he shifted positions. She had moved to the side of the bed, and was staring at him with a frown. He got the impression that she could see right through him, and knew it hurt more than he was letting on.

"Jack, why don't you let me see. Maybe you got cut in the side and I didn't notice." He shook his head and tried to move away, which caused him to freeze in pain again. She sat herself on the bed and looked him straight in the eyes.

"Okay, I hate to sound like a bunch of bad movie lines, but we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Either way you're in no position to fight, so I win by default. Now let me see!" She moved closer as he reluctantly gave in and lifted up part of his shirt. Sara gasped as she saw the rainbow of colours that made up his abdomen. Most of his stomach was covered in a large purple and black bruise, that disappeared beneath the rest of his shirt and up the right side of his chest. She looked up at his face to find him watching her intently. Noting the determined look in his eyes, she sighed. There was no way he was going to see a doctor, and it didn't matter how badly he hurt.

"Hurts a little bit, huh, she chided as she handed over the ice. He gave her a wry grin, and sank further into the pillow. Sara sat on the edge of the bed as Jack tried to get in a more comfortable position. He moved slowly, wincing every now and then. Even in pain, she noticed his eyes were closing as he moved. She had guessed he would be tired, but he'd lasted longer than she initially expected. However, she got the feeling that he didn't want her to see him so weak, and was trying to act as though he was feeling fine. She decided to give him some peace, and quickly made her excuses.

"Did you want anything to eat. I reheated some soup a while ago...?"

He nodded, "That would be okay, I guess. I haven't eaten in a while." He gave her a small smile and she left the room.

-----------------

He sighed with relief as she left the room. His ribs were screaming at him, they definitely did not appreciate sitting up for so long. His head was pounding and he closed his eyes.

He remembered the fight. The three guys that had attacked them were in much worse shape than he was, and he smiled to himself. Three on one had almost made it even. But not quite.

Jack winced as he shifted positions again. He needed to find a comfortable position, so he wouldn't move his ribs while he rested. If he had learned anything from the last time he had broken a rib, it was that he could do a lot more damage to himself while sleeping then while conscious. Once more, he was thankful that Sara had left the room, and a grimace spread across his face as he twisted slightly. He allowed a small gasp to escape, and froze, in reflex. Breathing deeply, and gritting his teeth, he moved the rest of the way, finally lying down. Jack felt his eyes closing, and realized he was actually exhausted. Trying to fight his tiredness, he looked around the room. He had gotten to the finger painting on the wall, when he lost miserably, and sleep took over.

----------------

Outside the room, Sara watched, half hidden by the doorway. She flinched as he froze in pain, watching as he slowly twisted. She was sorry he was hurt, and wanted to help him desperately. 'After all, I mean, technically, he saved my life, why shouldn't I want to help him?' She continued staring as he gasped, a sure sign he was in more pain then he had originally stated. Sara didn't understand why he wouldn't go to a doctor. Hey, maybe he was one of those people that hated doctors. But, still, he was _badly_ injured. And what about that whole collapse-in-the-alley thing. She had almost forgotten about that. Something was wrong, she knew that much. She didn't think Jack was outright lying to her, but he was definitely holding something back. It was understood that people had baggage, and maybe he didn't want to share, but there was the way he spoke, the way he acted. The way he fought. It still troubled her, but she knew he had fought to _protect_ her, so that was something. He emitted a confidence that drew her in, he made her feel safe. Then again, she'd been fooled before. Sara sighed to herself and turned from the door, she just didn't know if she could trust him.

-----------------

Sara heated the soup and walked back to her room. Jack had rolled over so she couldn't see his face, and she moved to the other side of the bed. He was already asleep. She chuckled to herself, and felt a smile creep across her face. He always looked so...so...tense when he was awake. Now, he appeared relaxed, almost content. Almost. She put the soup down on a cleared patch of the bedside table, and sat down in the chair next to the foot of the bed. Suddenly, something was wrong, and she watched as Jack's features turned to panic. He twitched, and moaned slightly. He was dreaming, and she had a feeling it wasn't about hugs and puppies. Jack moaned again, mumbling, and tried to roll over. She lept up and grabbed his shoulders, preventing him from moving further. Slowly, he settled down, and she released him. She watched for another few minutes, before he started twitching again. Anticipating another attempt to move, she grabbed his shoulder. Once more, he slowly calmed down. She stayed by his side for almost an hour, watching. Slowly, she began to recognize when he started dreaming, and settled into a routine. She would reach over and lay a hand across his shoulder, and he would settle back into a peaceful slumber. At first, she didn't understand, then it dawned on her. Maybe, he just needed someone to be there.

---------------

Jack woke up once more to mild confusion as he tried to place his surroundings. After a few seconds he remembered, and calmed himself. He was alone, and from what he could gather, it was midafternoon. He tried to look out the window, but it was to high. He groaned slightly, and tried to swing his feet around. He was still in the same clothes he had been wearing the night before, and hadn't even been under any blankets. Jack was stronger, not by much, but definitely less tired. The bed creaked as he moved, and his feet finally made it over the edge. Jack looked around, realizing he needed to leave. He'd already practically invaded Sara's life and house, and he didn't want to be anymore of an inconvenience. He moved to try and get up, when a floor board creaked behind him. He tried to twist around, mildly succeeding, and he stared in mild shock. The young boy looked back, matching his stare.

The boy looked about 12, and was a little skinny for his age. He was wearing an old t-shirt that had seen better days, and had a few scratches on his arms. Looking closely, Jack noticed a fading bruise on the side of his face. The boy was looking him dead in the eyes, and hadn't even blinked. Jack cleared his throat.

"Hey"

"Hey" The boy tilted his head and continued staring at him. Jack almost laughed at how much he reminded him of Tony.

"My name is Jack," he paused "You are...?"

"Carlos." The boy stepped forward, with his hand out, and they shook. Jack was surprised by the grip Carlos had and nodded. Carlos moved back to the other side of the room, and continued watching him.

"So-"

"Why are you in my house?" Jack's eyebrows shot up, 'Right...direct, straight to the point.'

"Well, actually, I was just leaving-"

"No you're not." It was a statement, and Jack tilted his head to the side.

"Yes, I am. I didn't mean to be here this long anyway-"

"Mama, said you weren't supposed to leave." Jack was really getting tired of being cut off. 'Wait a minute, _Mama_?'

"Sara's your mother?"

Carlos nodded, "Yep"

"Oh. How old are you anyway?"

"Eleven. How old are you?"

"37"

Carlos continued to simply stare at him.

"You saved my mother, didn't you?" Jack ducked his head, and looked away.

"No... no. I just...uh...got in a fight-"

"She told me you saved her life."

"Well, actually, that's an overstatement..." Jack was really uncomfortable now. He hadn't saved her life or anything, just, stopped her from getting hurt.

"Are you saying Mama's a liar?"

"No, no. Of course not!"

"Well then, you saved her life." 'Okay, good job Jack. You were just outsmarted by a kid. You practically ran into that one.' He looked down once more, as an awkward silence spread over the room.

"Well, if you saved my mother, you're okay by me." Carlos moved across the room and slumped into the chair by the bed.

"Thanks...I think. But, look, really, I have to go now..."

"No, you're not supposed to leave."

"Why not?" Jack was rather indignant now, and it was beginning to show.

"Because Mama said so."

"Right, and I guess _you_ do everything _you're_ told to." Jack mumbled under his breath.

Carlos just tilted his head, and gave a flippant grin.

"Not always, but Mama told me to tell you this. 'If you misbehave, she'll do more than just _repeat _bad movie lines.' She said you'd know what she meant.

Jack gave a small grin, and nodded.

"Anyway, I'm supposed to offer you...", Carlos paused as he tried to remember, "...food, water, and a shower if you feel like it."

"Well, thank you, but I really need to get going. I-"

"Mama said if you still tried to leave I was supposed to poke you in the ribs."

"Oh, well then." Jack sighed, as he resigned himself to his fate. Assassins, terrorists, gangsters, and thugs, he could handle. But being poked by a child brought him down. Great.

-----------------

A/N: Thanks for reading. Hope everyone had a great holiday. And (well for everyone in the U.S. and such, I don't know about Europe,) it's about to get a lot better. I'm practically counting the minutes until Season 5 premieres. Literally. I've already apologized to everyone I know in advance because I'm going to get so annoying. Everytime I see a commercial, I practically explode. Anywho, hope everyone enjoyed, should have another chapter done soon.


	5. Independance and Stubborness don't mix

Sorry, about the long wait, I've been writing everynow and then on it, but I didn't want to post until I had enough. As it turns out, I've got bout ten more pages then this, so I plan on updating about every week for the next little while. Once again, sorry for the lateness.

Opti ;)

Sara walked through the front door, pleased enough that the house was still standing. She knew Carlos wasn't a fan of strangers, and leaving him in charge of Jack was a fairly dangerous idea at best. He was as protective of her as she was of him, and that wasn't ending anytime soon. But, he was a good judge of people, even as young as he was, and she was sure they were both fine. Really, she was confident.

Hearing voices, she walked into the kitchen. Jack was seated at the table opposite Carlos, playing a card game. Carlos was laughing at Jack, and Jack was smiling sheepishly as he pushed a pile of tortilla chips to Carlos' side of the table. Sara smiled as she entered the room.

"I thought I told you to be nice to Jack, he's our _guest_. Go easy on him" Carlos laughed again, as he got a hug from his mother. An empty bag of tortilla chips was on the counter, and the entirety of the contents appeared to be held by Carlos.

"I did. It was only blackjack." Sara laughed this time, and Jack gave a small grin.

"I was going easy, letting him get some confidence. That's all."

Carlos smirked, "Right, and I'm going on 40." Jack rolled his eyes. Sara was slightly more then thrilled. Carlos seemed to have accepted Jack, and they were getting along great. They were already joking around and being sarcastic, 'I mean, in a guy's book that's gotta be, basically, best friends.'

She was also surprised at Jack. She didn't know how well he would be able to interact with a kid, but he seemed to be handling it fine. He was relaxed and at ease with Carlos, well, relaxed for Jack anyway.

Soon, she had dinner cooked and they ate. Jack listened while Carlos told stories from school, and what he'd done that day. As it turned out, he was quite bright, and already ahead a year. Jack noted mentally that he only talked about classes, and not recesses or friends, but decided against mentioning it. Then they got on the subject of sports, and he could barely keep up. Carlos seemed to be an avid sports fan and Jack listened attentively as he chattered excitedly about his favourite teams. He'd also learned that Carlos was quite the card shark, and he'd been lucky to only lose tortilla chips.

They got up to clear the table, and Jack stiffened. He'd almost forgotten about his neck and ribs, a painful mistake. Slowly sinking back into his chair, he closed his eyes, dealing with, and releasing the pain. When he opened his eyes again, Sara was sitting in front of him and Carlos was nowhere to be seen.

"Jack?" He ducked his head as she tried to catch his eye, and mumbled under his breath that he was fine.

"Right," she muttered sarcastically, "I think you need to go back to bed now."

"No, I'm fine, really. It's just when I get up, or move to quick. I just forgot for a second, that's all."

"Jack, stop acting like this is nothing. You could have a head injury... or broken ribs! This is serious!"

"NO!" To late, he realized how harsh he'd been and lowered his voice. He knew he could deal with the injuries just fine, he'd dealt with much worse. The only problem was convincing other people he could do it. And seeing how he was slightly more than tired, he was getting a little irritated.

"Look, I'm sorry, I just... I'm kinda used to being more... independant... than this. Okay. I'm sorry." She looked at him warily before nodding.

"Fine you wanta be independant, you get yourself to bed all by yourself. That independant enough for ya?" She was joking now, and he smiled slightly. He got up and walked slowly through the door way. The first time he had been through here he hadn't looked around, he was too busy tring to convince Carlos he was fine. Now he glanced around what appeared to be a small living room. It had a small tv, a chair, and a small couch. It took Jack a minute to process the blankets strewn across the couch. She had obviously slept there the night before, at least for a little while. He turned around to find her watching him.

"I should go back to my place. I can take care of myself, I don't-" She went from looking curious to panicked. Holding up her hands she moved betwen him and he exit.

"Okay, there's independant, the there's crazy. That's crazy."

"No, I'll be fine-"

"Jack, what's your problem, you were fine with staying here a few minutes ago. What's wrong?" She dollowed his uneasy gaze into the living room, and noticed the blankets.

"I didn't realize I was putting you out, I don't want to be a problem or anything."

She shook her head slightly "Jack, she said with as much fear as she could muster, YOU ARE STAYING HERE! Get over it."

-------

Sara woke up in the middle of the night and loked around in the darkness. Rolling over she tried to go back to sleep. Just as she moved, a low moan surprised her. She waited, thinking she might have been dreaming, then she heard it again. She got off the couch, moving slowly through the house, going to see what was wrong. A few seconds later she realized the sound was coming from her room, and she opened the door slightly.

Jack was writhing slowly in the middle of the bed, and she noted the sweat glistening off his forehead. He twisted to the side and gritted his teeth. Sara moved closer to the bed, not sure what to do. He was obviously having a nightmare, but she was curious. Something that could scare that man, she felt was something scary indeed.

-------------

When Jack woke the following morning, he immediately began to appreciate how tender his ribs really were. He could sit up on his own now, but the five extra minutes it took to change his shirt gave him the indication that maybe he wasn't quite up to his usual fitness level yet. He grabbed his bag and got up slowly. He found he could move okay, as long as he didn't twist or look around much. It took him a while but he'd gotten both shoes on without bending over and started for the front door. He passed silently through the house, with barely the squeak of a floorboard. As he got to the door way of the living room, he paused noticing Sara was still asleep on the couch. She was curled in an old blanket and looked so peaceful that Jack could barely remember a time he had felt like that. Shaking his head quickly, he moved towards the door, careful to make sure it didn't squeak as it shut behind him.

------------

Jack moved a short distance from the house, sitting down slowly at a nearby bench. He swung his bag off his shoulder, and began to dig through it. He got to the bottom before he found what he was looking for. The small brown case matched fairly well with the bag, and was about the size of his hand. He brought it out, dropping the shoulder bag to the ground. The container appeared to be made of three sections, and made of metal. He twisted top of the container clockwise, then counter-clockwise, then twisted the middle piece and pulled the container open. A smalll cellphone fell out, and Jack turned it on immediately. As it charged up, he scanned the area getting his first good look at it. The houses were a little ramshackled and worn, but there was a small playset in the front yard of a neighbour, and Jack gave a small grin. No one was up yet and the street was deserted, but he had heard children playing in the few hours he had been awake during the day, and now he knew where they were from.

The cellphone beeped it's alertness, and Jack refocused quickly. He dialed the only number the phone had ever been used for and waited. After three rings Jack was about to hang up before the phone clicked in his ear.

"It's me." Jack wasted no time with formalities, as the call never lasted more than a minute and a half.

"You're late, are you okay?" The receiving voice was worried, and Jack could hear the concern hundreds of miles away.

"I'm fine, had a small accident, got off track. Couldn't call yesterday." The ritualistic, every month phone call, had been established as a way to alert Jack should the fact ever arise that he was alive. He hadn't missed a scheudueled time until now, which he knew only increased the stress the receiver felt, but that couldn't be helped.

"Jack we found a problem. I don't think anyone thinks you're alive, but there was someone that hacked my system the other day. They definitely got into the area that had your fake autopsy report. I don't know if you're still safe. I don't think they looked at it, but I thought you'd want to know." Jack brain cleared as the life he was trained for reasserted itself.

"Okay, from now on the phone wil be on constantly. If anything, and I mean anything, develops you call me immediately!"

"Well, no kidding, I'm not just going to leave you out there while a bunch of bad guys tries to come and kill you am I." The voice showed the indignation of being told something that was just _sooo_ obvious.

"Chloe! Just call me, okay."

"Fine, Jack. Anything else?" Jack sughed as the conversation came to its normal conclusion.

"How are they?" Chloe sighed again, before reporting what she did everytime he called.

"They're fine Jack. Audrey's in D.C. right now, and Kim's still got that new job. They're fine." Relief passed through the phone signal as two months of worry was slightly relieved. Jack allowed himself a moment of joy at the resilience of the two people he cared about most. He looked at his watch as time got close to dangerous.

"Alright, I'll call you in two months from today. And...thanks." He hung up the phone silently, as he began worrying again. If the Chinese had hacked her computer, he could be found at any minute. Or at least tracked. He worried everytime he called, but this time he realized, his worries might be justified.


End file.
